


Inconvenient

by quietregulus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crushes, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietregulus/pseuds/quietregulus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt #338 (by dontletthemuggles-getyoudown on drarrypromptoftheday.tumblr.com)<br/>Draco falls in love with Harry in the middle of the battle of Hogwarts which he finds inconvenient…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inconvenient

It was the strangest thing. Even stranger than switching sides during a battle, even stranger than being saved by an invisible someone and being punched by them afterward, even stranger to think that this old, towering castle was being destroyed as he survived.

And he _was_ surviving, somehow. He wasn’t even fighting anymore. He just stood there, surrounded by bodies, alive and dead. It was a wonder he hadn’t been killed, and even more so that he wasn’t doing anything at all to increase his chances of living at this point. The fact was, he was much too preoccupied by the strange feeling inside him.

Merlin, it was all too cliche. Draco knew this, but that didn’t stop him. Everything else was background. It just didn’t matter. And even if he could take his eyes off of what he was looking at, he wouldn’t be interested in the rest at all.

Harry bloody Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the kid hero who was defeating the dark lord at this very moment. While Draco stared, completely and utterly stupefied. Not literally. His heart thudding in his ears, he could feel his mouth dropping fractionally every few seconds, like clockwork. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with Potter every five seconds.

It wasn’t his fault. It was definitely Potter’s fault, with his heavy panting, chest falling and rising as his sharp green eyes glared right at the Dark Lord’s, his generally messy hair even more mussed up and slightly damp where it touched his face. How dare Potter look so _rugged_ and _handsome_ when he was probably thinking about how to murder the thing before him. How dare his dirty shirt cling to his body in the most terrible way, unintentionally revealing how the past year had changed him. How dare he.

Draco swallowed thickly and tried to shake himself out of his stupor. This was definitely not the time nor place for thoughts like those. He really didn’t want it to happen. There were hundreds of different situations in which this would have been equally as shocking and confusing, but still at least twelve times better. You are not supposed to be attracted to someone who’s circling around a murderer, someone who may be fearing for his life, Draco scolded himself silently. What’s wrong with you? What would your mother say?

He did actually feel a little bad about that last thought, but still. It wasn’t like he _planned_ to fall in love with Potter now, of all times. Of course, it _was_ now that Draco could finally see that Potter was indeed the hero that he was rumored to be. After years of just hearing about how great and brave and _Gryffindor_ Potter was, he could now witness it himself. And, well, that led to all this.

He was suddenly and effectively shook out of his haze when he heard Potter say his own name. Draco tried to pay attention to his words instead of his body (Draco groaned inwardly). But now the Dark Lord was talking, talking about wands and killing him. Oh. Wonderful. First falling in love with Potter at the worst possible time, and now this. Somehow, Draco wasn’t that worried about the latter.

Potter spoke again, and a wand - Draco’s wand - came into view. He could barely keep up - he was the true master of the Elder wand - that fabled wand (it was real?) - except he wasn’t anymore, not since Potter “overpowered” him at the manor. Draco squirmed. He felt his family’s eyes on him.

All at once, an almost blinding light entered through the window, and there were two loud shouts and a bang. Potter caught the wand, and the Dark Lord fell.

* * *

 

Draco could hardly see Potter afterwards, as he was surrounded by crowds of people, all loud and clamoring. He sat with his parents instead, keeping his head down for the most part. He only glanced up once in a while when people walked too closely by them, or to see if Potter was alone.

But he wasn’t alone until much after. He came back into the great hall with Granger and Weasley, unfailingly, at his side. They parted, most likely to be with Weasley’s family, and Potter was finally alone. Draco stood, not really hearing his parents’ questions and walked over to him.

Potter looked exhausted. That was his first thought. His second was, what am I doing here, what am I supposed to say, clap him on the back and say “good job, I’m glad you’ve finally killed the guy I had followed for most of my life, well done”? He wondered if Potter would look at him with hate, the look he had gotten used to over the years, or worse, dismiss him entirely. Instead, Potter just looked at him, eyes tired but not full of hate. Not full of anything, really.

"Malfoy."

"Potter," he nodded, still wondering what he was supposed to say, albeit feeling a bit more reassured. Finally, he decided to go with, "Is it true? I was the master of the Elder wand?"

"Yes," Potter said. "And you had been until I took your wand at the Manor. That reminds me…"

Potter took out Draco’s wand out of his pocket and held it out for him.

Draco managed half a smirk as he eyed it. “Can you trust me with it?”

"Yeah," Potter said confidently. "Even if you did want to kill me, I don’t think you could."

"How do you know I don’t want to kill you?"

"You saved our lives. You could have easily identified us and handed us over, but you didn’t. I owe you."

Draco scoffed. “It’s been repaid already. You saved me.”

Memories of fire and screams flashed through his head, and he winced, losing his good posture as he thought of his own losses of the night. Potter didn’t say anything, but nodded instead.

"Thank you," Draco said quietly.

"C’mon. Just take it," Potter wiggled the wand and lifted it higher.

Draco took it, feeling stronger the moment it was back in his hand. He almost said thank you again, but instead said, “Go to sleep, Potter. You look half-dead.”

"I wouldn’t be surprised," Potter smirked, and Draco positively melted. "See you, Malfoy."

Before Draco could respond, Potter was walking towards the exit and, hopefully, to his bed. Draco smiled a little to himself, looking back down at his wand. He tightened his grip on it. Perhaps this wasn’t as terrible as he thought it was.


End file.
